


Matchmaker, Matchmaker, Make Me A Match

by MacksDramaticShenanigans



Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Awesome Clint Barton, Cassie Lang saves the day, Ceiling Vent Clint Barton, Clint Barton Is a Good Bro, Getting Together, Jarvis (Iron Man movies) Lives, Love Confessions, M/M, Not Avengers: Infinity War Part 1 (Movie) Compliant, Not Captain America: Civil War (Movie) Compliant, Oblivious Bucky Barnes, Oblivious Steve Rogers, Oh also Jarvis is still a thing bc everyone loves Jarvis, POV Clint Barton, Peter Parker is Bucky's Number One Fan, Post-Captain America: The Winter Soldier, Post-Serum Steve Rogers, fuck the current timeline amiright?, we'll pretend he was backed up in the system or something lol
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-27
Updated: 2018-11-27
Packaged: 2019-09-01 11:05:00
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 13,382
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16763902
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MacksDramaticShenanigans/pseuds/MacksDramaticShenanigans
Summary: “Steve and James are so oblivious about their feelings, though,” Natasha continues. “For two super soldiers who supposedly excel in field work missions, you'd think they'd be able to figure it out and get their shit together.” She waves her spoon through the air as she speaks, then points it at Clint. “Maybe they can't see it through all that muscle. I’m telling you, though, it’s like they just need someone to push them together,” she adds casually, her tone void of any implications that kind of statement could have.That doesn’t stop Clint, though, and he lowers his coffee mug as a smirk slowly spreads across his lips. “Oh? Do they?” He asks, voice lilting in a very suggestive way.Natasha’s head immediately whips towards him, her eyes narrowing as she takes in his meddlesome expression. “Whatever you’re cooking up in that brain of yours, leave me out,” she says. “I do not want to be involved.”





	Matchmaker, Matchmaker, Make Me A Match

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Jules1398](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jules1398/gifts).



> [Julia](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jules1398/pseuds/Jules1398) Juliaaa Juliaaaaaa!! Happy happy birthday my love!! You’re Officially Not A Teenager anymore lmao. I hope you have the very best birthday and you do lots of fun things to celebrate. (And that you don’t have a terrible hangover tomorrow LMAO, remember to drink lots of water dsgklfjg) I’m so glad to have you in my life and I’m so happy that we’re such good friends! I really hope you like this not so little thing I whipped up for ya. This thing was a god damned MONSTER that just kept growing and growing. It had a mind of its own, I swear!! I know how much you love Clint so I wanted to do something where he played a big role! I hope I’ve done him justice with this!! (Also, sidenote, I know you don't like Tony so I'm sorry that there's probably a little more Tony than you would've liked in this, but he's the one causing all the problems so hopefully that at least kind of makes up for it lol)
> 
> The title comes from the song [Matchmaker, Matchmaker](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=5DyI1Z4WiIA) from Sophie Milman. 
> 
> A huge huge thank you to my wonderful beta [Gracie](https://archiveofourown.org/users/gracie137/pseuds/gracie137), all your comments and corrections were so very helpful!! I knew I had a bit of a passive voice problem but damn I didn't realize I used it that much!! lol. Thank you thank you, my dear. Ily <3
> 
> So without further ado, here’s my birthday present to you Julia!!

“Good morning, you’re up early,” Natasha comments as she strolls into the community living room in the Avengers Tower to find Clint plastered spread-eagle across the couch. She’s still in her tank top and fuzzy pajama pants suggesting she wasn’t banking on anyone else being there.

“Cartoons are on,” Clint responds with a lopsided grin that quickly turns into a smirk as he registers the little yellow ducklings all over her pants. “Nice ducky jammies.” 

Natasha rolls her eyes and points a finger directly at Clint. “Tell anyone and you’ll never even know what got you,” she threatens, but Clint knows an empty Natasha threat when he hears one. “I’m making coffee,” she says, changing the subject as she walks to the kitchen. “I’m assuming you want a cup.”

“You know I do,” Clint calls after her before turning his attention back to the giant television screen in front of him. “Jarvis, turn it up a bit, would ya?” 

“Certainly, Sir,” Jarvis chimes back, and the sound of the pre-recorded laugh track echoes through the room, even louder than before.

A satisfied smile settles over Clint’s lips and he leans back into the cushions, head resting comfortably against his arms which are folded beneath it. If there’s one thing he loves about living in Avengers Tower more than anything else, it’s that he never has to reach for a remote anymore. Gone are the days of losing his comfortable position or having to turn over every cushion to find the misplaced remote. Jarvis is the best thing Tony Stark has ever created, in Clint’s humble opinion. He would even go so far as to say it was better than the Iron Man suits themselves.

It's not long before Natasha returns. She has two mugs, filled to the brim, balancing in one hand and a ceramic bowl of some colorful, sugary looking cereal in the other.

At first Clint thinks the bowl is for him as he's never seen Natasha eat something that bright or that sugary— not that she's one of those health nuts that only puts green vegetables into her body and nothing else. But as Natasha settles herself on the couch again, she balances the cereal bowl atop her right knee and holds out one mug for Clint to take. Once Clint accepts it from her, she sets her mug on the coffee table, picks up the spoon that’s floating amongst the colorful puffs and digs in. 

She must notice Clint eyeing up the cereal because she pauses, spoon halfway to her mouth, and lifts her head to meet his gaze. Slowly, she closes her lips around the bite, her cheeks puffing up cutely like a chipmunk. “What?” she asks around the bite, lifting an eyebrow. “You're not the only one that likes Froot Loops around here.”

The corner of Clint’s lips quirk up, but he shakes his head. “No, I wasn't… I was just wondering where my bowl was,” he says.

Natasha laughs and takes another bite. “You know where the bowls are. Cereal's still on the counter too,” she answers. 

Clint holds his hands up in surrender, and he considers getting up to make himself a bowl. But, the kitchen is so far away, and he's already formed a Clint-sized impression in the cushions that would lose its shape if he left it. Not to mention getting up for cereal would totally defeat his no-remote party. So he shrugs the desire off— he's got his coffee, anyway. “Nah, I'm good,” he tells Natasha, who just rolls her eyes at him. 

The two of them fall into a comfortable silence after that, the only sounds in the room coming from the television, Natasha's cereal crunching, and Clint's coffee slurping. 

“God,” Natasha starts a few moments later, breaking the silence. “This is almost like watching Steve and James,” she says, nodding towards the TV. “Only this is slightly less painful,” she adds. Across the screen the cartoon cat and dog keep making exaggerated heart eyes at each other when the other isn't looking, and when they interact, their actions are flustered and love-struck. 

Clint's brows furrow and he sits up a little, turning towards Natasha. “What do you mean?” He asks, paying closer attention to the cartoon. 

Natasha fixes Clint with a curious look, her head cocked slightly to the side. “Are you saying you haven't noticed?” She asks. “They're not very subtle about it. They're obviously in love with each other, but they're dancing around the fact just like these two.” She gestures towards the screen. 

Clint follows the motion and watches as the two cartoon characters interact on screen. The cartoon cat has a lovesick grin on her face, little pink hearts reflecting in her eyes as she gazes at the cartoon dog. The pair are conversing, but Clint's not paying attention to the actual words being exchanged. He's too busy analyzing their body language, watching as she shyly tucks some ridiculous hair the creators deemed necessary behind both of her ears, her heart eyes intensifying. And, shit, come to think of it, Clint remembers seeing Bucky do that in response to something Steve said to him the other day. Clint's eyes immediately go towards the other character now, searching for his response. On screen, the heart-eyed cat leaves, giving the cartoon dog a fluttery, almost flirty wave. As soon as the door shuts behind her, the cartoon dog presses his back to the door and sinks down, a dopey, love drunk grin on his lips. And Clint can, with absolute certainty, say he's seen that very same look on Steve's face after Bucky's left the room. How Clint has never made the connection between them and their, frankly obvious, feelings is beyond him.

“They're so oblivious about it, though,” Natasha continues. “For two super soldiers who supposedly excel in field work missions, you'd think they'd be able to figure it out and get their shit together.” She waves her spoon through the air as she speaks, then points it at Clint. “Maybe they can't see it through all that muscle. I’m telling you, though, it’s like they just need someone to push them together,” she adds casually, her tone void of any implications that kind of statement could have. 

That doesn’t stop Clint, though, and he lowers his coffee mug as a smirk slowly spreads across his lips. “Oh? Do they?” He asks, voice lilting in a very suggestive way. 

Natasha’s head immediately whips towards him, her eyes narrowing as she takes in his meddlesome expression. “Whatever you’re cooking up in that brain of yours, leave me out,” she says. “I do not want to be involved.”

Clint pouts. “You sure, Natty?” He asks, sending her the puppy eyes he learned to perfect that one time Scott brought his daughter along. 

Natasha frowns at the nickname and flicks a green Froot Loop in Clint’s direction. “I said no,” she confirms. “I hate to break it to you, but your plans always end in disaster.” 

“Not all of them,” Clint argues, crossing his arms defensively over his chest. 

“Oh yeah? Name one,” Natasha challenges, mirroring Clint with her own arms. She’s got an expectant look on her face, the corners of her lips twitching up like she already knows she’s won this one. 

“Budapest,” Clint shouts triumphantly, after a few long stretches of silence.

Natasha snorts, her anticipative expression falling into a more amused one. “That was  _ not _ a successful plan, Clint,” she retorts incredulously. 

“Maybe not at first,” Clint points out. “We got it to work in the end though.”

Natasha contemplates Clint’s words briefly before conceding. She gives a half-hearted shrug and unfolds her legs so she can stand. “Okay fine, I’ll give you that,” she says. “But regardless, leave me out of this one,” she repeats as she stalks towards the kitchen.

“This one’s going to work! Mark my words, it’ll work, and you’ll wish you were part of it!” 

“No, I won’t!” 

“Fine,” Clint calls back, sticking his nose up even though Natasha can’t see him. “I don’t need help from you anyways.” 

  
  
  


“Wanda, I need your help.” 

Wanda looks up from where she’s sprinkling a pinch of something red— paprika, Clint realizes— over some chicken dish she has cooking over the stove. A thin eyebrow arches and she wipes her hands on the kitchen towel before sticking them on her hips. “My help? With what?”

“You’re close with Steve, right?” Clint asks, resting his elbows on the counter and leaning his chin into his upturned palms. 

Wanda nods, her eyebrow creeping higher.

“Close enough that you’d be comfortable going to him with… boy troubles? Or would it be bot troubles? AI troubles? Wait— is it offensive to refer to him as anything other than human? I mean, technically he’s not human though, so, it shouldn’t be… but I can’t tell him what can and can’t be offensive to him—”

“Clint.”

Clint cuts himself off and shakes his head to clear his thoughts and refocus on his goal here. “Right. Vision problems— that the kind of thing you can talk to Steve about?” 

Wanda purses her lips and pokes at the chicken with a spatula before flipping it so the other side can cook thoroughly. “I’d say so, yes,” she finally answers, giving Clint another nod. “I’m not having Vision problems, though,” she adds, sprinkling a little more paprika onto the newly exposed sides of the chicken. “So what’s this about?” 

“Okay, well, you see, that’s just a way to get the conversation started, so it doesn’t really have to be an actual problem,” Clint explains. “You could totally make something up, as long as you’re able to segue from your love life to his. ‘Cause that’s the goal here. To talk about his love life.”

“And why do I need to get him to talk about his love life?” Wanda asks, reaching for the cutting board and one of the sharper knives from the block. She sets them on the counter and moves to the pantry to fetch the basil. 

“Simple. Once you get him to talk about his love life, you gotta pry enough to get him to admit to you that he’s in love with Barnes,” Clint says. “Because he is. I mean, have you seen the way—”

“Steve looks at Bucky like he hung the moon? And Bucky right back?” Wanda cuts in, a knowing quirk to the corners of her lips. “I have seen it.” 

Clint’s clever smile falters, a confused pout taking its place. “Am I like the last to know about this? Because I just figure it out this morning…”

“Not the last one,” Wanda replies, running the basil leaves underneath the stream of water before setting them on the cutting board and lifting the knife. “Steve and Bucky don’t know yet,” she supplies helpfully. 

Clint points a finger at her and presses his lips together in a  _ you-got-me-there _ kind of way. “That’s very true,” he agrees. “But anyways, that’s the point of this all. Because while you’re talking to Steve, trying to get him to confess to you, I’m going to make sure Bucky walks in right as he says it, that way they’ll  _ have _ to talk about it. Clever plan, I know right?” He’s beaming proudly, the grin a first grader would give his mom after proudly presenting her with a ‘drawing’ that’s just a bunch of colorful scribbles. 

Wanda ponders Clint’s words for a moment as she gets to work chopping the basil up into tiny, garnish sized pieces. “That’s…” She starts, rolling the idea around in her head a little more before making a proper judgement. “Not a terrible plan, actually,” she finishes. “It could work, if it’s done right.” 

“That’s what I thought.” Clint crosses his arms over his chest and lifts his chin into the air in a haughty, self-satisfied way.

Wanda rolls her eyes at Clint’s antics. “I’ll help you,” she finally agrees, setting the knife down and gathering the chopped basil in her palm. “When were you thinking of doing it?” 

“Well, I hadn’t really thought that far ahead yet. But if I’m not mistaken, Bucky’s training with Natasha in like five minutes and Steve’s supposed to be back from his run with Sam any minute now,” Clint replies, trailing off hopefully.

Wanda looks up from the pan to meet Clint’s eyes. “You want me to do it now?” She asks, casting a glance around at the dish still on the stove, and the ingredients and cooking utensils scattered around the counter in various states of cleanliness. 

Clint chews on his lip as he surveys the mess as well. “I mean… well hey, here’s an idea. Why don’t you offer some of your food to Steve?” He suggests. “That way you don’t have to abandon it, you can still clean up after yourself too, and Steve can’t cook for himself for shit so you know he’ll accept the invitation.” God, Clint loves knowing these kinds of things about his friends, these little tidbits really come in handy.

“I guess I could do that,” Wanda agrees, giving a small shrug. “How do I know he’s not just going to go straight to his floor after his run?” She asks a second later, pointing out a flaw Clint didn’t quite consider. 

“Oh, uh,” Clint starts, wracking his brain for a remedy. “I bet we could get Jarvis to send him down here. He listens to Jarvis— who  _ doesn’t _ listen to Jarvis?” 

“Tony,” Wanda retorts, smirking proudly at her dig. 

Clint snorts a laugh. “Well, Steve’s not Tony so it should work. Plus, who isn’t hungry after a run? We’ll just have Jarvis tell us when Steve’s back and then have him tell Steve he’s invited to join you for dinner. Jarvis, you hear that, buddy?” He asks, glancing towards the ceiling, even though there’s no physical embodiment of Jarvis anywhere. 

“Yes, I heard. I’ll inform you of Captain Rogers’s return and invite him to dinner with Ms. Maximoff,” Jarvis recites.

“Alright,” Wanda says. “You said you wanted Bucky to walk in, while we’re talking, yes?” She asks, a crease forming between her eyebrows. “How will you get that to happen if Bucky’s training with Natasha?” 

She brings up a good point, Clint acknowledges. He hadn’t exactly thought that far yet. Getting Wanda to even agree to the plan had been his primary goal, and he really didn’t expect her to agree so quickly and easily. But it’s okay. Clint can think on his toes. He thinks on his toes all the time. “Oh!” He suddenly exclaims, snapping his fingers. “I could tell him Fury paid a visit. That he’s waiting for him in here. He can’t just ignore Fury, no one ignores Fury—”

“Except for Tony,” Wanda interrupts, her cheeky look returning. 

“Except for Tony,” Clint repeats with a laugh. “But that means he’ll have to come up here and see what he wants.” 

Wanda considers the idea for a moment. “I can’t think of anything better, so that will have to do,” she says. 

“Great,” Clint says, clapping his hands together.

Ten minutes and an announcement from Jarvis later and Steve’s seemingly on his way down to meet Wanda for a meal, and Clint’s trying to find a hiding spot. Normally, he would shimmy himself up into the vents, but he needs to make sure that the corralling Bucky portion of his plan works and he can’t very well do that in the vents, which means they’re not an option this time. He wants to see what’s going on, too, so hiding behind a wall or a potted plant wouldn’t really work either. Not to mention Steve could probably sense him somehow. He’s got incredibly keen observation skills, Clint’s noticed— a game of hide and seek with the guy would only last about a minute, he’s that good. 

“Why are you still here?” Wanda all but hisses, narrowing her eyes in warning at Clint as the elevator pointer gets closer and closer to their floor. “He’s going to be here any second.” 

Clint frowns. “First of all, I live here too, I technically  _ can _ be here too,” he says.

“He’s not going to admit what you want him to admit if you’re here,” Wanda points out. 

“And second,” Clint continues, pointedly ignoring Wanda’s comment, “I’m leaving! I just don’t know where to hide.” 

“May I suggest a different room in which I can filter a visual and auditory feed into for your personal viewing?” Jarvis chimes in, ever so helpfully.

Clint lights up at that. “God, Jarvis, I could really kiss you right now! Y’know, if you were a real thing. Er— not  _ real _ because you’re real, I mean physical…” 

Wanda shoots Clint a glare, and he quickly shuts himself up and heads for the next room over. “Work your magic, Jarvis, my man.” 

As soon as the door closes behind Clint, a glowing blue panel appears in front of him and a video stream of the kitchen and living room of the main floor pops up, complete with a full range of vision and audio so good Clint can hear the chicken sizzling in the pan. 

His eyes quickly shift towards the elevator as the telltale ding sounds off, and Steve Rogers enters the room, still in his jogging pants and a tight smedium dryfit shirt. Clint isn’t ashamed to admit that he can definitely see why Barnes is into him. If he wasn’t into a particular redheaded soviet then he would probably be all over that too.  _ If this plan doesn’t work out, maybe I could pretend to hit on Steve and make Bucky jealous _ , Clint thinks. He pockets that idea for later, just in case.

“Hey Wanda,” Steve greets, walking towards the kitchen where Wanda’s turning off the stove burner and removing the chicken from the heat. “Jarvis said you were making dinner? And that I was welcome to join?” 

Wanda sends Steve a smile and tucks a lock of hair behind her ear before grabbing two plates from the cupboard and getting to work divvying up the chicken between the two. “Yes, I told Jarvis to let you know. I made more than enough for myself so I thought it would be nice to share,” she answers. 

Steve returns the smile and heads to the sink where he washes his hands before collecting silverware and napkins to set the table. Then he goes to the cupboard and brings out two cups.

“There’s a rosé on the counter, if you’d like some,” Wanda says before Steve can go for the fridge for anything else to drink. 

“You tryin’ to get me drunk, Maximoff?” Steve asks good-naturedly, even though everyone knows he can’t actually get drunk. Not with rosé, at least. 

Wanda chuckles and works on plating their meal. Once the chicken is on its bed of rice and the sauce drizzled over it, she sprinkles the basil she chopped up earlier over it for decoration and lifts the plates in each hand to bring to the table. 

As she sets the plates down Steve pours half a glass of rosé for each of them and sets the glasses down before sliding into the seat across from Wanda. “Thanks for offering to share with me,” he says, picking up his fork.

Wanda waves it off and picks up hers. “It’s no problem, Steve. Like I said, I made too much for myself. I thought you could do with a good meal after some exercise too. How’s Sam?” She asks. 

“Sam’s good. He’s doing real good, yeah,” Steve answers. “He’s getting faster,” he laughs. “He was almost able to keep up with me for the first thirty seconds instead of just the first fifteen.” A huge grin spreads across Steve’s face, one that tells Clint that if Sam were here to hear Steve he absolutely wouldn’t be having it, but he’s not so Steve can say whatever he’d like to say.

Clint makes a note to save that bit of the conversation to show Sam later. And to stick around for that conversation too. 

“That’s good for him,” Wanda says, giggling a little.

A brief silence falls between them as they both dig into their meal. Clint watches as Steve easily cuts his chicken into smaller pieces and skewers them to bring to his mouth. “Oh, wow, this is really really good,” Steve says as he chews. “Oh, god, I could never cook something like this.”

Wanda laughs and swallows her own bite of chicken before reaching for her wine glass. She takes a small sip. “You like it?” She asks, a smile curving at her lips. 

Steve nods and takes another bite, his eyes closing and head tipping back as he dramatically clutches at his chest and makes a noise of approval. “Amazing,” he gushes. 

“Do you… do you think Vision would like it?” Wanda questions slowly, taking another sip of wine to hide her expression. 

_ Perfect, _ Clint thinks.  _ That was a perfect transition. Wanda, you genius, you’re killing it! _

Steve sits up properly in his seat and swallows his bite as a knowing look creeps across his face. “Oh?” He asks, his tone light and casual, as though he were trying to not make a big deal of her question. “Am I a test date?”

A pink flush blooms onto Wanda’s cheeks and she shakes her head. “Not a test date,” she says. “I just, am trying to figure out what kinds of things I can do with Vision.”

Steve lifts a brow and points his fork at her. “Things you can do with Vision… on a date.”

“Okay, yes,  _ on a date _ ,” Wanda repeats. “So I guess this is a test date then. At least for the food,” she says. “I just want it to be good.” 

“And it is,” Steve confirms. “It’s very good. And I really do think he would enjoy it too,” he answers honestly. “Even though he can’t exactly… taste,” Steve adds.

Wanda deflates and presses her palm to her forehead. “Oh, I forgot about that,” she groans. She pulls her hand away from her face and looks up at Steve with pleading eyes. “Do you have any other ideas for what I can do?” 

Steve reaches across the table and covers his hand over the top of Wanda’s. “You’re in luck. You could say I know a thing or two about romance.” 

In the other room, Clint’s eyebrows raise at Steve’s statement. Steve? Knowing a “thing or two” about romance? Since when? He snorts at the thought, but turns up the volume a little so he can hear what Steve has to say better. Who knows, maybe Clint will take some notes.

“Alright, well, I’ve been in the twenty-first century for a while now, so I’d like to think I have a decent enough grasp on it by now. So I can tell you that dancing—” Steve presses his lips together briefly and slices his palm flat through the air, “—never got old. The styles may have evolved and changed with the time, but even then, some of the classics are still around. Back when I was younger me and Buck used to go to the dance hall,” he starts.

Clint’s ears perk up at the mention of Bucky, and he sticks a finger in his ear to clean it out and make sure he heard correctly.  _ Did Steve just say he and Bucky used to go to the dance hall? _ Does that… does that mean they actually were a thing in the past? And maybe Bucky just forgot about it thanks to the seventy years of Hydra brainwashing? Oh god, if that were the case that would be awful.

“We used to go on double dates with the prettiest girls, and—” a nostalgic smile curves onto Steve’s mouth, “—Bucky was always so good at dancing. He’d swing his gal around the floor all night, and you could just tell they’d be having the very best time. By the end of the night he’d be so sweaty.” He chuckles. “But he still looked as good as he did when the night first started. And the dames did too. Always.” The smile turns wistful before Steve shakes it clean off his face. “I bet you and Vision would have a nice time dancing together.” 

Wanda’s face is soft as she listens to Steve’s recollections and ideas, and Clint can tell that she’s affected by just how in love with Bucky Steve sounded just then. “Dancing does sound fun,” she agrees. “I can’t say I’ve ever been, though. And I’m sure Vision hasn’t either. I’m not sure how well it would work to have two people with two left feet dancing together,” she laughs. 

“That’s a fair point. I never really learned how to properly dance either,” Steve shrugs. “I was supposed to before the—” he cuts himself off and smiles tightly at Wanda before taking another sip of the rosé. “Anyways, if you don’t think dancing’s a good idea you could always try the pictures— the movie theater.” 

“That could be fun,” Wanda replies with a nod. 

“You could take him to one of those robot films and just make fun of the inaccuracies the whole time,” Steve suggests with a laugh. “Buck and I used to do that all the time. We'd sit in the back row and keep a running commentary of the film.” 

That sentimental smile returns, and Clint wants to just burst right out of the room and take Steve by the shoulders and shake some sense into him. Now more than ever Clint’s plan has to work. Steve deserves to do these things with Bucky  _ for real _ . It’s long overdue.

“He's got a decent sense of humor,” Steve continues, his voice pulling Clint's attention back to the video stream. “So I don't think that would offend him. But if you think that’s a bad idea you could always just go for a walk around Central Park or something. Lot's of couples do that, it can be pretty romantic I suppose.”

“You seem to know quite a lot about all of this,” Wanda says, the corner of her lips quirking up.

Clint perks up at this, easily recognizing that Wanda’s about to direct the conversation to Steve’s love life— just like he asked her to. “Jarvis, could you let Bucky know Nick Fury wants to see him in the communal lounge on the main floor?”

“But, Sir, Nick Fury isn’t even in the building,” Jarvis responds, confused. For an AI he’s awfully good at emoting. 

“Yes, yes, I know,” Clint says. “I need Bucky to come up to this floor without telling him why he actually needs to, so could you just let him know Fury’s waiting please?”

“Right away, Sir,” Jarvis agrees, thankfully, and Clint lets out a sigh of relief that he doesn’t have to try to goad him into lying to Bucky. 

It’s not long before Jarvis is chiming out again. “Mr. Barnes is on his way to the communal lounge.” 

“Thanks J-Man,” Clint replies brightly. He can already feel the excitement coursing through his veins, leaving him buzzing and unable to sit still. He’s never been more ready for anything in his life. He just hopes he timed it all right. The elevators in the building aren’t slow by any means, but he has no idea how long it will take before Wanda gets Steve to actually admit anything.

A second video screen suddenly pops up beside the first, this one picturing Bucky exchanging goodbyes with Natasha in the Tower’s gym and making his way towards the elevator.  _ Perfect _ , Clint thinks.  _ Everything’s on track. This might actually work! _

Back in the kitchen, Wanda tilts her head and fixes Steve with a curious look. “Is there someone you’re hiding from us?” She asks, her tone light and teasing. 

Steve blushes— he actually  _ blushes— _ and ducks his head. He shakes it though before looking back up to meet Wanda’s eyes. “No, I’m sure. I’m not hiding anyone. There’s no one.” 

“Okay,” Wanda says slowly, but Clint can tell she’s not finished. The curl of her lips— the very  _ Natasha _ curl of her lips— tells him she’s only just beginning. “If there isn't anyone, then there must be someone you're wishing you could do all of that with, no?” The intensity of Wanda's knowing stare could make any man, even the great Steve Rogers, crack. 

And crack he does.

“Well, I mean, there might be someone,” he admits bashfully, eyes cast down at the liquid in his glass. He swirls it a little and watches the way it swishes around with too much interest.

Wanda sets her fork down and scoots her chair close enough to Steve’s that she can easily reach across the space between them and gently settle a palm around his arm. The touch gets Steve to tear his eyes away from the wine and finally meet Wanda’s gaze again. “Would this someone possibly be… Bucky?” She asks carefully.

Clint glances between the live footage of Steve and Wanda conversing at the table and Bucky riding the elevator. He has a clear view of the small screen above the elevator doors that changes with each passing floor. Bucky’s only two floors away. That won’t take long. 

Steve’s already rosy cheeks darken, and he nods his head in response to Wanda. He lets it hang there for a second, chin against his chest, before lifting it again. “How’d you know?” He asks, a somewhat amused look on his face.

Wanda smiles softly. “You talk about him a lot. Just now, especially. I think it’s sweet,” she says. 

“Yeah, well, that’s probably all it’ll ever be,” Steve replies, sounding a little defeated. 

A frown pulls at the corners of Wanda’s lips, her forehead crinkling. “Why do you say that?” 

Steve sighs and runs a hand through his hair. “The thing is, I really would love to tell him how I feel, but it’s just never been the right time. Definitely couldn’t back when we were kids, and then during the war… well, you’re never truly alone at a war base. And it’s not like you have a lot of free time anyway. But, uh, then the train happened, and I thought for sure I’d missed my chance.”

“So why not now?” Wanda questions curiously. 

A humorless chuckle slips out of Steve’s lips and he flashes Wanda a sad smile. “He’s been through so much, and he’s still recovering from it all.” Steve shakes his head. “I don’t want to fuck up his progress or make him uncomfortable or anything. He still has trouble remembering some things, and I don’t want to overwhelm him or confuse him by burdening him with my feelings. I don’t want him to think I’m trying to take advantage of him either, because I’m not.”

“No, of course not,” Wanda agrees. “But, Steve, don’t you think he’s able to make his own judgements about all of that?”

She makes a good point, and Steve must think so too because the furrow between his eyebrows loosens and his frown shrinks. “I guess you’re right,” he admits, pressing his lips in a flat line as he thinks it over.

“I know I’m right. It may not have been the same situation, but I know a little of what it’s like to be in Bucky’s situation,” Wanda replies, referring to her time captive under Strucker’s hold. “Not to mention, you never know what telling him something like that could do for him. It could be the kind of thing to trigger a memory that nothing else could. Or it could just be the thing that he needs to help him get through all of this. Love can do a lot for a person, Steve,” she says. “You do love him, yes?” 

_ Any second now! _ Clint thinks excitedly.  _ Bucky will walk out of that elevator any second now and finally hear Steve admit his love for him. _

“Of course I do,” Steve answers easily. He doesn’t even hesitate before the words are out. “I’ve always loved him, and I always will.” 

No Bucky yet, but that’s okay. That’s fine. If there’s anyone who can gush on and on about the love of their life and how much they love them then it’s Steve, and Wanda surely can get him to do that. Clint spares a glance towards Bucky in the elevator. There’s only one floor left keeping him from walking in on Steve and Wanda’s conversation, and it’s like time seems to slow down the closer it gets. Or… wait a second. Maybe it’s just the elevator slowing down? Clint squints at the screen, even taps on it to zoom in, and yep. The elevator has definitely just stopped. Only it’s not on the main floor yet; instead, it’s stuck between floors. “What the hell?” Clint mumbles.

Not even half a second later, though, the lights in the room and the lights in the communal lounge flicker out. The video streams follow, wavering in and out before completely disappearing.

“Shit,” Clint hisses. “Shit, shit, shit. No, this can’t be happening!” He waves his hand through the air where the videos were, but nothing happens. “Jarvis? Jarvis, what happened? Why did the elevator stop? Where’s the footage go?” 

Rather than Jarvis answering, however, Tony Stark’s voice booms out instead. “No need to panic, everyone. The lights should be back on and everything else should be a-okay in a sec. Just blew a fuse, no biggie.”

As if on cue, the lights in the room slowly turn back on, and the glowing blue panel reappears, as does the video footage from both the living room and the elevator. Clint lets out a sigh of relief and checks the video of Bucky in the elevator first. It seems to be up and running again, which means Bucky’s only seconds away from arriving on the main floor. 

A look towards Steve and Wanda has Clint realizing that their previous conversation has been put on hold as they marvel over Tony’s interruption. Clint drags his hands down his face and lets out a groan. This was going so well before Tony had to mess it all up. He hopes maybe Wanda can get the conversation back on track before Bucky arrives, but it’s looking pretty dim.

The ding of the elevator draws all their attention. The second the doors open to reveal Bucky behind them, Clint sees a mix of panic and disappointment flash across Wanda’s face as the realization that their plan failed hits. 

“Bucky?” Steve asks. All irritation with Tony’s electrical mishap seems to have melted from his voice, leaving behind nothing but pure happiness at the sigh of his best friend. 

“Oh,” Bucky says as he walks out of the elevator to see Steve and Wanda. He’s got a small towel around his neck, and he’s still in his training gear, of course, the black tank top doing nothing to hide his metal arm. (Or his glistening muscles, and god damn, maybe Clint could flirt with Bucky to make Steve jealous too— he’ll flirt with them both if he has to. He doesn’t mind; he’s very dedicated to the cause.) Bucky shifts enough that his right side is facing the two of them, his left arm mostly hidden from view. “Is Fury out here?” He asks, glancing around the kitchen and living room. 

“Fury?” Steve repeats, sending Bucky a confused expression. “I can’t remember the last time Fury was here.” 

“Is he supposed to be here?” Wanda questions, narrowing her eyes. She spares Steve a concerned glance. 

Bucky’s brows furrow and his lower lip pushes out in a bit of a pout. “Jarvis told me he was up here and wanted to see me,” he explains. 

“That’s not true,” Steve replies. “Someone must have told Jarvis to tell you that.” 

Clint sees the recognition dawn on Wanda and she shakes the confusion away. “Well, it’s a shame whatever you were doing was interrupted, but now that you’re up here would you care to join us?” She asks, gesturing towards the plates and glasses in front of herself and Steve. “There’s plenty more in the pan.” 

Bucky shakes his head and sends Wanda a polite smile. “Thank you, really, but if Fury isn’t actually up here, then I think I’m gonna go beat the snot out of a punching bag or somethin’. M’still pretty amped up from sparring with Nat.”

Clint lets out a long groan and tips his head back, staring up at the ceiling in frustration. “Dammit,” he curses, shaking his head. He watches sadly as Bucky makes his way back to the elevator and steps inside, pressing the button for the gym floor.

Back in the kitchen, Steve gathers his and Wanda’s now empty plates to take them to the sink. 

Wanda takes both of their wine glasses and the half full bottle of rosé over as well. 

“Thanks again for inviting me up for dinner,” Steve tells her as he runs the plates beneath the faucet, using the sponge to scrape off the excess. “And I hope I was able to help you with ideas of what to do with Vision.”

Wanda starts to carefully dry the wine glasses and sends Steve an easy smile. “You were very helpful,” she confirms. “I think I’ll try the park idea first.” 

“Always a good choice. The trees are lovely this time of year. Really nice to draw and look at,” Steve replies. He finishes with the dishes and stows them away in the dishwasher before wiping his hands on the towel. “Well, I think I’m gonna go hit the showers now. Let me know how everything works out with Vision, though, okay?” 

Wanda nods and leans up against the counter. “You’ll be the first I tell.” 

Steve throws Wanda a cheeky salute and then heads for the elevator. Wanda, however, makes her way towards the room Clint’s in. She knocks before entering, and almost immediately apologizes. “I’m so sorry it didn’t work. We were so close. Just a few seconds earlier and Bucky would’ve heard it.” She frowns and wrings her hands in front of her.

“It’s alright,” Clint says. “It wasn’t your fault that it didn’t work. You were doing so well before Tony screwed up the wires or whatever he did.”

“You’re going to try again, right?” Wanda asks, eyes wide and expectant. 

A grin spreads across Clint’s face and he nods. “Of course I’m going to try again. I’m not stopping until these two finally get together.” 

“Good. Steve loves Bucky so much, this needs to happen. If there’s any other way I can help, just let me know.”

“Will do,” Clint agrees. “I could use a little help thinking up Phase Two.” 

  
  


It turns out that Phase Two doesn’t actually have anything to do with what Clint and Wanda thought up. Turns out, it’s a lot better though. 

“Oh, hey there Mr. Hawk Man,” Peter greets, rounding the corner and nearly crashing right into Clint. “Sorry, didn’t see you there,” he apologizes, quickly pocketing the phone he’d been too preoccupied with. 

“Hey, Parker. What’re you doing here?” Clint asks curiously. He knows Tony isn’t in the Tower at the moment. If Clint remembers correctly, Tony’s supposed to be giving some motivational speech type thing at the local university, and Clint knows it’s important enough to him that he wouldn’t blow it off to mess around on whatever science project he and the spider kid are working on. “You know Tony’s not here, right?” 

Peter nods and waves a hand through the air in a vague gesture. “I know, I know. I’m waiting for him to get back. Mr. Stark’s helping me design a new formula for my webs— it’s supposed to be a whole lot stronger and easier to replace and stuff. We’re supposed to test some of them out later, but in chemistry class today I thought of a way to improve one of Mr. Stark’s formulas even more, so I figured I’d head over here a little early and get started by myself.”

“That a good idea?” Clint wonders aloud. “Working on it by yourself?”

“I know what I’m doing, Mr. Hawk Man, it’s fine. Plus Dum-E’s a real good fire extinguisher!” Peter assures, sending Clint a wide, confident smile. 

“Actually,” Clint starts, the beginnings of an idea forming in his head thanks to the mention of Peter’s web fluid. “Since Tony’s not here yet, and I’m sure he’d love to be there for all of the web fluid tests, you think you’d be up to help me out with a little something?” 

Peter lights up at the request, his eyes widening and smile growing. “Oh, is this your plan to get Captain Rogers and Sergeant Barnes to tell each other how they feel about each other?” He asks eagerly. He’s almost bouncing on the balls of his feel, his hands wringing in front of him out of sheer inability to sit still.

Clint’s brows furrow, and he glances to his left and right before narrowing his eyes at Peter. He points an accusatory finger at him and takes a step closer. “How do you know about that?” He asks. “I haven’t told you, and I haven’t told Tony either so how do you know?” 

“Oh, right,” Peter says. He at least has the decency to look a little sheepish as he explains. “Well, uh, Miss Romanoff has been training with me, teaching me basic self defense and some pretty cool spider moves— it really makes sense why she’s called Black Widow!— and she, uh, she might have mentioned it to me.” 

“Natasha told you?” Clint repeats, incredulous. He definitely wasn’t expecting that. Natasha’s not usually the gossip type, and she had made it very clear she didn’t want to be involved… Clint makes a mental note to ask her about that. 

“Yeah… was she not supposed to or something? Because I can totally just forget about it. Pretend I never heard it. I’m really good at that!” Peter offers. 

Clint just shakes his head, his serious expression melting away into a more laid-back one. “Nah, you don’t have to forget about it,” he replies. “That actually  _ is _ what I was going to ask for your help with, so it’s fine. Saves me some explaining, actually,” he laughs.

Peter chuckles along too, and he fixes Clint with an expectant look. “So what part of the plan do you need my help with?” He asks before suddenly lighting up again and barrelling on. “Oh, do you need me to web grenade them together? Or maybe I could use Karen’s interrogation mode and grill them until they confess? I’d have to hide in the vents or something so they don’t know it’s me…” 

A burst of pride shoots through Clint at Peter’s vent comment, and he files that away for later. “No no no,” he interrupts before Peter can continue listing off the many  _ many _ ways the features of his spiderman suit could be of assistance. “I was actually thinking we could start off small first,” he explains. “I think they’re close to telling each other on their own, they just need a little push, y’know? Like Steve told Wanda the other day that he wants to tell Bucky, he just doesn’t know how. And that he doesn’t know how Bucky will take it. I think… I think maybe if Bucky made the first move, or at least showed some sign of his interest then that would be enough to make it happen.” 

Peter nods diligently as he listens, one of his hands coming up to scratch at his chin. It’s something Clint’s seen Tony do countless of times when he’s surveying his many projects or trying to think of the next move to make. Peter must have picked it up from him. “Okay,” Peter says slowly. “I think I know what to do here.”

“You do?” Clint asks, pleasantly surprised with how quickly Peter came up with something.

“I do,” Peter confirms. “Don’t worry, Mr. Hawk Man, I got this. Sergeant Barnes’ll be admitting to Captain Rogers in no time, trust me.” 

“What’s your plan?” 

Peter reaches out to pat Clint’s bicep reassuringly. “Just figure out how to get Captain. Rogers involved and let me handle Sergeant Barnes. I got this.” It’s all he says before he’s bounding off, like an overexcited puppy, towards the elevator and presumably, Bucky and Steve’s floor. 

Clint scrambles into the vents, keen on having nothing but the very best view for the oncoming show. 

From his vantage point in the vents, Clint can see that Bucky is curled up on the couch, his feet tucked up under him as he flicks through the pages of a hefty novel. His hair’s tied up in a loose bun, and he looks cozy in the thick wine-red sweater he’s wearing. It’s a much different demeanor than when he’s around the rest of the Avengers. Here he looks relaxed and less like he’s on edge and waiting for something to pop out at him. Clint hopes that one day Bucky will feel comfortable enough with everyone else to be this way around them too, but for now he’s just glad that Bucky at least has Steve. 

The elevator ding pulls Bucky’s attention from his book, and he rests it facedown in his lap, a private smile curling onto his lips as he calls, “Steve? That you?” 

Clint watches from his perch in the vents as Peter steps out of the elevator, a hesitant look on his face as he scratches at the back of his neck. “Uh, no. I’m not Captain Rogers. It’s, uh, actually me. Peter,” he replies, walking further into the room so Bucky can see him. “Parker,” he adds as if that’ll help somehow. 

“Oh, hey, Pete,” Bucky says, closing the book entirely and setting it on the coffee table in front of him. “What brings you to this neck of the woods?” He wonders.

Peter walks further into the living room and leans up against the arm of the sofa Bucky's on. “Well, if you're not too busy, I could actually use a little advice,” he answers. 

A look of surprise crosses Bucky's face, as if he never expected that someone could want advice from  _ him _ . He shakes his head. “Not too busy,” he replies, then pats the couch, inviting Peter to join him. “What kind of advice are we talkin’ here?”

A little laugh spills out of Peter's mouth as he seats himself on the opposite end of the sofa from Bucky. “The relationship kind,” he clarifies, sending Bucky a charming, lopsided smile. 

“Ah,” Bucky says, nodding. “Trouble in paradise?”

“There'd have to be a paradise first, Mr. James,” Peter responds, his smile faltering. “That's kind of what I wanted to talk about. The, uh, getting there part.”

“First of all, I've told you this before, Pete, the only people that call me James are my Ma and Natasha, and my Ma's long gone, and I'm working on a way to take care of Nat. And none of that ‘mister’ crap either. I ain't no proper man. Bucky's perfectly fine,” Bucky reminds him. Clint has to hold back a snort. “And secondly, you mean the askin’ someone out part, right?” 

“Yeah,” Peter confirms. “I mean, I've asked people out before— well a person. I've asked  _ a person _ out before— so I know  _ how _ , but… it's just… this person’s different than the rest, y'know? There's more at stake here.”

“What makes you say that?” Bucky volleys, raising an eyebrow.

Peter pauses for a moment, twisting his fingers together in his lap before finally lifting his eyes up to meet Bucky's gaze. “Well, he's my best friend.”

A look of pure understanding flashes across Bucky’s face, and if Clint wasn't convinced of his feelings for Steve before, he sure as hell was now. It would have been clear to anyone that witnessed Bucky's expression he knew firsthand exactly how Peter felt right now. 

“The best friend,” Bucky repeats, and Peter nods. “Does he know that you're bi?” 

“He does,” Peter answers easily.

“And I'm assuming that doesn't bother him then?”

Peter shakes his head. 

“Alright,” Bucky says slowly. “Are you sure he doesn't return the feelings?”

“I… I don't know,” Peter answers with a sigh. “I really have no clue. He’s my best friend, so our friendship is already… closer than normal. I don’t know if everything he does is strictly platonic or not. I’ve been trying not to read into anything too much because I don’t want to get my hopes up or anything. And the thing is, I wouldn’t even be upset if he didn’t feel the same. I mean, it would suck, yeah, but I’d get over it. And him. But that wouldn’t suck as much as it would if I told him how I feel, he doesn’t feel the same, and that makes things weird between us, or he never wants to speak to me again or something like that. I don’t think I’d be able to lose him like that.” 

A frown pulls at Peter’s lips, and Clint feels something in his heart ache for the kid. Peter’s one of the sweetest, most brilliant kids he’s ever known, and if his best friend were to ditch him because of a few feelings, then he doesn’t deserve to have Peter in his life, anyway. 

It’s almost as if Bucky can somehow read Clint’s mind, because nearly the exact same thing comes from his mouth. “If he doesn’t feel the same, and he really is your best friend, then he won’t let it change anything between you,” Bucky tells Peter.

Peter nods, but he still looks unsure. “I’m just worried. And I don’t know what to do,” he replies, a little crease forming between his eyebrows. 

Bucky chews on his lower lip for a second, as though contemplating his next words, mentally forming a script. When he finally speaks, his tone is confident; he’s sure of what he says. “You wanna know what I think?” He asks, and Peter nods eagerly. “I think you should tell him anyways. I think you should tell him because you can,” Bucky says, a particular passion in his voice. “This century, this  _ decade _ , hell, just these past few years themselves, homosexuality has been more widely accepted and normalized, and while it’s still far from perfect for us, and there’s still a long long way to go, you can do things today that I couldn’t ever dream of doing back in the 30’s,” Bucky pauses for a brief second before speaking again. “I know how you feel, Pete. I know all too well. You know, you kind of remind me of myself. When I was younger I was in love with my best friend too,” he admits, and Clint nearly shouts out in excitement because  _ this _ is what he needed. 

Peter stares at Bucky with wide, eager eyes. “Are you… do you mean Captain Rogers?” He asks, his voice barely above a whisper.

Bucky laughs softly, but nods. “I mean Steve, yeah,” he confirms. “I was so goddamn in love with him, but I never told him about it. I never told him because back then being anything other than straight was a crime. Back then it was something disgusting, and I couldn’t stand the thought of Stevie thinkin’ of me like that. I couldn’t lose him because of that.” An almost pained look settles over Bucky’s features, presumably as he thinks back on the old days and all the memories that flooded his brain. “But then I did lose him,” he says. “And you know what went through my mind as I… as I fell from that train? I thought, I never told Steve I love him. And I would never get the chance to. So, yeah, Pete, I think you should tell him. Because like I said, in this time, you  _ can _ , and you shouldn’t have to hold back your feelings and be afraid of sharing them. But also, because you never know when that chance will be taken from you. I don’t want you to have to go through everything I did. If someone should get to do it right, it should be you.” 

A brief silence falls between Peter and Bucky as the words sink in, the heaviness of Bucky’s confessions. Clint stays incredibly still in the vents, worried that any movement might alert the two to his presence and ruin their whole moment. As happy he is that he heard Bucky admit to his feelings, he knows this conversation is important to both, and he really doesn’t want his plan to get in the way of it. 

It’s Peter who finally breaks the silence. “Mr. James, do you still love him?” His voice is soft, indirectly letting Bucky know he can trust Peter and answer truthfully. 

Bucky looks up from his lap and nods. “I do,” he admits. “I still love him. He’s the best person I know, and I don’t think I could ever just stop loving him.” 

There’s no mirror in the vents, but Clint doesn’t need one to know he’s got a sappy, mushy expression covering his face. He doesn’t think he’s ever heard someone talk about another person the way Bucky talks about Steve, and it truly warms his heart to hear how much they mean to each other. It makes Clint want his plan to work even more, because he knows they deserve to be together finally. 

He watches as Peter’s face softens too, and he reaches out slowly to touch Bucky’s arm, the same reassuring way Bucky had done to him earlier. “I think you should tell him too,” Peter says. “Take your own advice, Mr. James. You’ve had to keep your feelings in for so long, but you don’t have to anymore. You live in this time too, and you’ve been given a second chance to make things right. You said it yourself, you know how it feels to live with that regret, so don’t. You don’t have to anymore.”

A series of different emotions flash across Bucky’s face before something soft finally settles over it. “You know, you make a good point, kid. Using my own words against me,” he laughs. 

Peter shrugs and chuckles along. “It’s good advice,” he replies simply. “It should be followed. By both of us. And no matter what happens on either end, we both did it and we won’t have to live never knowing the outcome.” Peter leans in a little closer and lowers his voice. “For the record, I think it’s gonna go well for you.” 

Bucky smiles softly and reaches out to squeeze Peter’s shoulder. “You too, kid.” 

“I hope so,” Peter responds. “I think… I think I’m gonna go talk to Ned now. Before I lose the nerve to do it,” he laughs. “Thank you for the advice, Mr. James.” He rises to his feet and lunges forward to hug Bucky, who’s surprised for a second before he hugs back. 

“Anytime, Pete. And thank you. Let me know how it goes, okay kid?” 

Peter nods. “You too, Mr. James. I’ll see you around.” 

And then Peter’s heading towards the elevator to leave. He seems pretty determined to follow through with it, and as he leaves Clint doesn’t think he’s planning to stick around and see the results of the other end of his conversation.

He watches as after Peter goes, Bucky picks his book back up and tries to get back to reading, but he keeps glancing up at the clock, as if his eyes boring into the face and the hands would make them move any quicker. Bucky may be intimidating, but even he isn’t intimidating enough to scare a clock.

At six o’clock on the dot, the elevator dings, and as Clint expected, out walks Steve. 

Bucky has already abandoned his book and has risen to his feet as well to head over and greet Steve. Clint can see he looks nervous, his stature more slumped than usual, shoulders hunched in on himself and hands folded in front of himself. The act of walking over to Steve seems to help Bucky regain at least some of his calm, but he’s still a little twitchy and antsy as he approaches Steve. 

“Hey, Stevie,” Bucky says, sending Steve a welcoming smile. 

“Hi, Buck. How ya been?” Steve replies, brows furrowing as he takes in Bucky’s appearance. “Everything okay?” 

Bucky nods. “Yeah, yeah, everything’s fine. I’m fine,” he reassures, putting Steve back at ease. “There actually is something I wanna talk about though.”

“Sure,” Steve responds. “What is it?” 

Instead of answering, Bucky turns and makes his way back to the couch. It’s probably a smart idea, Clint thinks, to have this kind of conversation sitting down. Not that he thinks it will go badly— because he knows it won’t. But finding out your best friend returns the secret feelings you’ve been harboring for him for over seventy years is a pretty big thing. Big enough to leave even the biggest of supersoldiers feeling pretty winded. 

Steve follows Bucky into the living room, and the two of them take a seat on the same couch Bucky had been curled up on earlier. Steve’s got his knees pointed towards Bucky, a move that shows he’s giving him his full, undivided attention— a very Steve thing to do. He’s always been a good listener, and he always knows exactly what someone needs to hear.

Bucky stays quiet for a few moments. He seems to try to gather his thoughts, probably figure out a coherent, possibly romantic way to finally confess his feelings after seventy plus years of waiting. His hesitancy makes perfect sense, really. 

“You sure you’re alright, Buck?” Steve asks again, a concerned look covering his face. 

Bucky glances up from his lap, and Clint can see the second his eyes meet Steve’s because that’s when his whole body relaxes, all his muscles untensing as the nerves seemingly purge themselves from his body. It’s impossibly sweet that Bucky feels that comfortable and that safe around Steve, that even when he’s about to confess his biggest secret, one look into Steve’s eyes and he’s not nervous anymore. And, god, what Clint would do to have someone who could do that for him.

“I’m okay, yeah. I promise,” Bucky answers, a soft smile pulling at his lips as he nods. “I just. Well, there’s kind of been something I’ve wanted to tell you for a while now. Like, the over seventy years kind of a while.” He chuckles a little, and Steve does to before nodding in encouragement. “And if I’m being honest here, it’s probably something I couldn’t have told you back when we were kids, no matter how much I wanted to. I mean, it would have changed a lot for both of us and… it probably would have made things worse for both of us too. But, I think it’s time for me to tell you now. Because I don’t think it’ll make things worse for either of us anymore. I mean, we’ve both been through hell and back, so really, this kind of seems like a ridiculous thing to be afraid or nervous about.” 

Clint’s position in the vents, thankfully, allows him to have a complete view of both Steve and Bucky’s faces, and he can see the way Steve’s got this hopeful look on his face, as if he knows where Bucky’s going with this. He’s leaning in a little, completely engaged and hanging off of every word Bucky says. Clint feels the same way— his heart’s beating a mile a minute in his chest as Bucky gets closer and closer to finally confessing his feelings, to making his plan a true success. 

Bucky’s full on grinning by now. His own words really must have hammed it into his mind that they really have faced so much worse, so no matter the outcome of this conversation, things will be fine. And Clint is able to, with one hundred percent confidence, say that even if Steve didn’t return the feelings for whatever reason, he would still stick by Bucky’s side, still be his best friend. Hell, the guy stuck by Bucky even when he was a brainwashed, trained assassin just because he believed in him and cared for him  _ that _ much. It’s pretty inevitable that they’re a forever kind of thing. Clint’s just happy that Bucky will get the happy ever after he deserves. 

“I guess I’ll just go out and say it. Steve I’m—”

“Knock, knock! Guess who it is? Oh, right, me!” Tony Stark exclaims as he waltzes out of the elevator that no one heard go off. 

Clint nearly smacks his head on the vent as he mentally curses Tony out for interrupting. They were _ so close _ . But of course. He just  _ had _ to come in and completely ruin it. This is what Clint gets for not involving Tony, he supposes.

Bucky and Steve startle apart as Tony’s voice rings through their floor, and Clint can see the exasperation that flashes across Bucky’s face as he resigns himself to the fact that his confession is most likely not going to happen at all tonight now. 

“Tony, hey,” Steve says, shifting on the couch so he’s better facing their guest. “What are you doing here?”

Tony has a tiny wrench in one hand and a grease stain across his cheek already and one going down the side of his t-shirt. A glance at the clock tells Clint he’s only been back from his university speaking gig for twenty minutes or so, yet he already looks like he’s been in the shop for an hour. 

Tony waves the wrench through the air and wiggles his eyebrows. “You,” he declares, pointing the wrench at Bucky, “promised me you’d let me tinker around with that fancy metal arm of yours. And since Pete cancelled on our web fluid tests, I need something to keep me entertained. So I’m cashing in on that promise now, Buckaroo.” 

“Can that wait, Tony?” Steve asks, his lips pressing together as he glances between Bucky and himself and then looks back over to Tony. “We’re kind of in the middle of something.” 

Tony, bless his soul, seems oblivious to just what kind of conversation is happening— or at the least to the fact it’s a  _ serious _ one. He shakes his head and gives a little shrug. “Nah, sorry, Cap. Barnes signed over his soul. The demon’s come to collect. He has no choice but to deliver.”

Bucky’s brows furrow at Tony’s comparison. “You realize you’re calling yourself the demon in this scenario, right?” 

Tony just sends the two of them a  _ what can you do about it _ look before sticking a hand out and curling his forefinger in to beckon Bucky. “Let’s go, Mrs. Nesbitt.”

With a sigh, Bucky stands. He sends Steve an apologetic look and shoves his hands into his pockets, rocking on his heels in front of Steve. “I guess I have to go then,” he says slowly. 

“We can finish this conversation later then?” Steve asks, hope etched across his features. 

Bucky nods. “Yeah, later,” he agrees before stepping around the couch and following Tony back into the elevator so they can go down to Tony’s lab. 

Up in the vent Clint lets out a silent groan and presses his forehead against the cool metal, resigned. Another part of the plan, so  _ so _ close, yet so far away. God, he thought for sure this one would work. He’s running out of options, and there’s no way he can go to Natasha about that. She refused to be a part of this and Clint would bet anything that if he told her how everything has failed so far she’d just laugh and tell him “I told you so.” 

All hope is not lost, however. There is one other person Clint can turn to for help. 

  
  


When Clint pulls open the door, as expected, Scott Lang is standing there, hands tucked behind his back, and there’s a sheepish expression on his face that thoroughly confuses Clint. Until out pops little Cassie Lang from her hiding spot behind Scott’s legs.

“Ah,” Clint says to himself, Scott’s expression finally clicking. “Hi there, Miss Cassie,” he greets, crouching down to match her height. 

Cassie flashes Clint a bright, scrunchy-nosed grin, showing off her missing two front teeth. “Hi,” she replies, waving a small hand. 

“And how are you today, little miss?” 

“I’m good. Daddy’s watching me today!” She exclaims excitedly, reaching up to grab onto Scott’s free hand. He’s holding a small, plastic trophy in the other, ‘World’s Best Grandma’ engraved onto its plaque. 

“I see. How exciting!” Clint says, sending Cassie a smile in response. “I’m sure you’re gonna have such a fun day with daddy, today!” He assures before rising to his normal stature. 

“Look, I know this wasn’t part of the plan and I’m really sorry about that,” Scott starts immediately, eyes earnest and apologetic. “Maggie called and said she needed me to take Cassie for the day and I couldn’t say no to her.”

Clint waves him off. “Hey, seriously, man, don’t worry about it,” he assures. “We’ll figure out a way to make it work.”

What once was going to be an elaborate plan involving tons and tons of ants and the very handy shrinking function of Scott’s Ant-Man suit seems to be no more; however, Clint’s not going to let a small setback like this deter him. Besides, who knows, maybe Cassie will bring a new perspective to the whole thing. Her presence could be helpful. 

The three of them migrate into the living room and settle onto the couches. Clint tells Jarvis to turn the television on for Cassie, to keep her entertained while he and Scott try to rework their plan. They’re in the middle of doing so when the elevator dings, and none other than Steve  _ and _ Bucky’s voices fill the hall. 

“I don’t know what you’re talking about, Buck.  _ Snow White _ is a classic! You just can’t beat it!” Steve says, his voice carrying into the living room before he’s even there. 

“Mm, sorry punk, I gotta disagree with you. Have you watched  _ Tangled _ yet? Because  _ Tangled _ beats  _ Snow White _ anyday. S’just how it is,” Bucky argues back.

The two round the corner, still arguing about which Disney princess movie is better— an equally interesting and amusing conversation in Clint’s opinion— completely oblivious to the fact they now have company.

“I’ve seen  _ Tangled _ , yes. You made me watch it with you last week, remember? And, if I recall, I think you fell asleep on me while it was playing,” Steve points out, smirking triumphantly at Bucky. 

Bucky rolls his eyes and gives Steve a small shove. “Hey, I was tired. That had  _ nothing _ to do with the movie,” he counters, pointing a finger at Steve and pouting.

Steve’s got this incredibly fond expression painted onto his face as he looks at Bucky. It vaguely reminds Clint of that stupid cat cartoon that started this whole thing, and it only makes him that much more determined to fix his and Scott’s plan. This one is  _ the one _ . It has to be. 

“Oh, okay, here, I’ve got another reason why  _ Tangled _ is better. Two words: Flynn Ryder.” Bucky waggles his eyebrows at Steve, his lips curling into a sly grin.

Steve opens his mouth— probably to defend  _ Snow White _ — but instead of doing that, he just opens and closes his mouth like a fish before snapping it shut.

Bucky’s smirk only grows. 

“I’ll give you that,” Steve replies, nudging his shoulder into Bucky’s as they walk. “Flynn Ryder is slightly more attractive than Prince Florian.” 

“Slightly? Try significantly,” Bucky snorts. “But that’s not the important part. The important part is that  _ Tangled _ wins. Hands down.” 

“I like  _ Tangled _ ,” Cassie chimes in from her perch on the couch. During the whole exchange she twisted in her seat and crawled to the back of the couch, sitting on her knees and gripping onto the edge as she watched Steve and Bucky’s whole interaction.

Both Steve and Bucky startle and tear their gaze from each other to direct it towards Cassie. It seems like that’s the first time they really realized they aren’t alone, and Clint stifles a snort. 

“I like  _ Tangled _ ,” Cassie repeats, and Bucky elbows Steve, tilting his head to the side, a sickeningly sweet smile taking over his face. His whole expression just screams  _ hah I won _ . 

“Well, ain’t that just the bees knees, now, Stevie,” Bucky croons. “Cassie here likes  _ Tangled _ . And, seeing as she’s the target demographic here, I think her opinion stands.” 

Steve rolls his eyes, but that fond smile returns and threatens to overtake his entire face. “ _ Tangled _ ’s a very good movie choice, Cassie,” Steve tells her.

Cassie grins widely and preens under the attention. 

“Hi, Scott,” Steve greets, turning to Cassie’s father. “What brings you two here today?” He wonders. 

Scott’s eyes widen and a panicked expression flashes quickly across his features. “Oh, uh, we were just in the neighborhood, yeah, and we thought we’d stop by to say hello,” he explains, not sounding very convincing. “So… hello!” 

“Hello!” Cassie echoes. 

Steve’s brows pinch together briefly, but he doesn’t seem to think much of it, or lets it slide at least. “Well it’s nice to see you both,” he says. 

“It’s been too long since you’ve brought Cassie over,” Bucky adds, sending the little girl a sweet smile. 

It warms Clint’s heart to see Bucky so happy around Cassie. There used to be a time when little children made him uncomfortable and he would avoid them at all costs because he thought he’d scare them. But Cassie— sweet, kind little Cassie— helped him move past that fear. And now? Well, now they’re each other’s biggest fans, so it seems. It’s precious, really. 

“We’re about to watch a movie— one of the ones we were arguing about, actually,” Bucky announces. “We could take Cassie off your hands for a little bit and she could come watch with us,” he offers. 

Cassie lights up and she immediately turns towards Scott, her puppy dog eyes already in action. 

Clint doesn’t know how Scott ever says no to those. God knows he could never. If he ever has kids, he already knows he will be the parent that indulges them in everything, no questions there. His partner’s going to have to be the one to lay down the law. 

“If you really don’t mind her crashing your dat— movie then it’s alright with me,” Scott says, catching himself before he slipped up. It probably wouldn’t have done anything but make Steve and Bucky laugh, maybe even blush a little.

But, with Cassie watching a movie with them, it would give Clint and Scott time to properly revise their plan, and quite possibly, follow through with it as well. It’s too perfect. 

“Great,” Bucky says cheerfully. “I’m gonna go make the popcorn then, I’ll be right back.” Then he disappears into the kitchen, leaving Steve on the couch with Cassie, Clint and Scott sitting across from them. 

Almost as soon as Bucky’s gone, Cassie turns on Steve, a determined look on her little face. “Are you in love with Mr. Bucky?” She blurts out, blinking up at Steve with wide, expectant eyes.

Clint nearly chokes on his own spit at the question, and he has to blink a few times to make sure this is actually happening. 

Beside him, Scott makes a choked off sound and winces at Cassie’s intrusive question. 

But Steve. Oh boy,  _ Steve _ . His eyebrows shoot up to his hairline, eyes going as big as saucers. They look like they’re wider than Cassie’s right now. His entire face is beet red, and he’s floundering as he tries to think of a way to respond. When he doesn’t, Cassie barrels on. 

“I’m only asking ‘cause you look at Mr. Bucky the same way my daddy looks at Hope. And he’s in love with Hope,” she explains. 

This time Scott actually does squeak out, but that doesn’t stop Cassie. 

She’s got a sweet smile on her face, the perfect picture of innocence as she waits for Steve to answer her. 

“I, uh,” Steve stutters, coming up short again. 

Clint doesn’t think he’s ever seen Steve this flustered before. Steve— Mr. Always Has Something To Say, Mr. Picture of Poise and Grace. He revels in it, soaks it up and makes a mental note to get the footage of this moment from Jarvis so he can relive this moment and laugh about it later. 

Steve is saved from having to answer Cassie’s question when the man himself returns to the room, a bowl of fresh popcorn gripped in his metal hand.

“So what’d I miss?” Bucky asks.

Clint and Scott share a look, and Steve stays quiet where he’s sitting on the couch, not taking his eyes off of the carpet. 

Cassie’s the only one that doesn’t seem to pick up on the awkward atmosphere. And Cassie, bless her unfiltered eight-year-old mouth, blurts out an explanation. “I think Mr. Stevie is in love with you, Mr. Bucky,” she says. “He looks at you like my daddy looks at Hope and he’s in love with her.” 

It’s Bucky’s turn to be completely caught off guard by Cassie. He didn’t expect this at all, if the surprise written all over his face is anything to go by. 

Clint watches as Bucky’s eyes shift from Cassie to Steve, who’s still pointedly avoiding eye contact with anyone or anything other than the ground. 

“Steve?” Bucky asks softly, no judgement or disappointment in his voice.

And it must be soft enough to get Steve’s attention, because Steve finally draws his eyes up to meet Bucky’s. The blush is still on his cheeks, spreading all the way down his neck, and he’s chewing on his lip nervously. 

It’s then that Clint decides to make his presence known again, and he clears his throat before standing. “I, uh, think we should let them talk. Alone,” he says to Scott and Cassie, tipping his head towards the other room where they should go. 

“Oh, right, yeah. Definitely,” Scott agrees, and he quickly corrals Cassie. “Sorry for interrupting,” he adds, and then the three of them are off.

As soon as they close the door behind them, Clint’s already working on the vent cover, wiggling it loose. “This is it!” He whisper-shouts excitedly, beaming at Scott. “Who knew all it was going to take was an eight year old little girl? Man, if I knew that before I could have saved myself a lot of trouble, and a lot of time too!” 

Scott laughs and smiles down at his daughter. “You did a good thing, Peanut,” he tells her.

Cassie beams back at Scott, pride shimmering in her eyes. 

“Okay, there’s no way I’m missing the culmination of all my hard work, so I’m gonna go watch this thing unfold. I’ll tell you all about it when it’s over!” Clint says before wiggling into the vent. He crawls along as stealthily as he can until he’s over the living room again, with a perfect view of Steve and Bucky. 

Bucky’s seated himself on the couch where Cassie had been sitting. He’s close to Steve, but still keeping enough distance between them to be comfortable and to give Steve any space he needs. They’re quiet for a while until Bucky breaks the silence. 

“Is it true?” He asks. “What Cassie said. Are you in love with me?” 

Steve looks up from his hands to meet Bucky’s eyes, and even from up in the vents, Clint can see how soft they are. “It is true,” Steve confesses. “I am in love with you.” The second the words leave Steve’s lips, a huge smile breaks out across them. It spreads fast and wide and easily takes up almost his entire face.

Clint can only imagine how good it must feel for Steve to finally say the words he’s been holding in for almost an entire century. And he can only imagine how good it must feel to watch as Bucky’s face mirrors Steve’s, an uncontrollable smile of his own unfurling.

Bucky lets out a long breath, like he can’t believe he’s actually hearing those words come from Steve. He doesn’t even try to stop himself from grinning like a fool— why would he?

“You don’t know how long I’ve waited to hear you say those words,” Bucky whispers, reaching out to take one of Steve’s hands in his own, twining their fingers together. He gives it a squeeze and looks right into Steve’s eyes. “I’m in love with you too. So so in love with you.” 

A bubbly laugh spills out of Steve’s lips and he closes the distance between them on the couch and lifts his free hand to brush across Bucky’s cheek. “I think I know exactly how long you’ve waited to hear those words. Because I’ve waited just as long to hear them from you too.” He drags his palm over the sharp edge of Bucky’s jaw and lets his thumb trace across Bucky’s lip before he leans in and presses their foreheads together.

“I’m going to kiss you now,” Steve murmurs softly, just barely above a whisper.

“So kiss me,” Bucky responds.

Clint knows he’s intruding on their moment— has been the whole time— but he decides to at least let them have this completely to themselves, and he looks away. He’s satisfied with the results,  _ so _ glad that his plan worked despite all of the bumps and bruises along the way. He can’t wait to brag about it to Natasha. She’d be eating her words  _ for sure _ . 

He’s about to shimmy his way back into the vents above the other room where Scott and Cassie are patiently waiting for his updates when Steve speaks again. And, well, he can’t  _ not _ stick around to hear what he has to say.

“Is this what you wanted to talk about the other night? Before Tony interrupted us?” 

Bucky chuckles as he thinks back on that night. “Yeah, it actually was,” he confirms. “I had a good talk with Peter before you got back and he kind of helped me realize that I should just come out and tell you instead of holding it in.” 

“We’ll have to get him a fruit basket or something then,” Steve grins. “And throw one in for Wanda too. I had a nice conversation with her about you, too.”

“Really?” Bucky asks. He sounds skeptical, like there’s something here not quite adding up. Uh oh. “That’s pretty odd, if you ask me.” 

“Why’s that?”

“Well because I’ve seen Clint talking with both Peter and Wanda pretty recently. And I heard him on the phone with Scott the other day…” Bucky trails off. “It’s almost like… like he’s got something to do with all of this.” 

Oh shit. There goes Clint’s cover.

“That would make sense,” Steve says. “I don’t think Cassie was part of his plan though,” he adds with a laugh.

“She’s too smart for her own good,” Bucky agrees. “I guess we do kind of owe him a thank you then, since he’s at least somewhat responsible for why she’s here in the first place.” 

A self-satisfied smirk curls onto Clint’s lips. This probably isn’t good for his ego at all if he’s being honest. But he intends to collect the credit for all his hard work the past week. Matchmaking isn’t easy, don’t let anyone fool you on that. 

“We could thank him…” Steve says, and Clint can hear the mischief in his voice. He doesn’t know what it means, and he’s not sure if he likes it. “Or, we could return the favor.” 

“That,” Bucky starts, smirk evident in his tone, “sounds like a brilliant plan.” 

“Great. Phase One of Operation Get Clint and Nat to Admit  _ Their _ Feelings For Each Other is a go then.”

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! Let me know what you think with a kudos and a comment!
> 
> Come say [hi](http://brooklynbabybucky.tumblr.com/)!
> 
> And come check out this cool [discord](https://discordapp.com/invite/8gybKrj) for marvel content creators! You can find more information @marvelcreatorsnetwork on tumblr or feel free to ask about it in the comments!


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